Best Laid Plans
by x0aquariusx0
Summary: Blaine's parents are out of town, so he heads to the Hummel's house.  Kurt plans for the perfect week.  Unfortunately, what they say about the best laid plans is true.  Blaine gets sick.   Written for the Glee Angst Meme on LJ .
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee or any of its characters.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Blaine

**Spoilers:** Takes place after S2.

**A/N:** Written for the Glee Angst Meme on LJ. Will probably be 3 or 4 chapters. Thanks for reading!

In the past two hours, Kurt has changed his outfit 7 times. He's cleaned his room from top to bottom twice. He's looked out the window towards the driveway approximately 28 times, just checking to make sure it's still empty.

Kurt is a nervous/excited ball of energy because Blaine Anderson, his wonderful, gorgeous, amazing boyfriend, is spending a week at the Hummel/Hudson resident. That's right. Saturday to Saturday. A full week, while his parents are out of town in Ireland or Greenland or one of those other "lands."

"Kurt," Carole calls from downstairs. "Blaine's here."

With a barely contained squeak, Kurt dashes downstairs to the kitchen, where Blaine is handing Carole a bouquet of flowers – roses, carnations, and daisies.

"For you," Blaine says, "as a thank you for having me."

"Aw," Carole says, holding the flowers up near her nose. "They're beautiful, Blaine. Thank you." She turns to Kurt and motions to Blaine. "I like this kid."

"Me too," Kurt says, unable to contain his smile. "Hi, Blaine."

"Hey," Blaine says, smiling as well.

Blaine looks so different than he does at Dalton. Instead of his uniform, he's wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a neat polo. His hair is more relaxed and curly, less gelled than normal. His duffel bag is slung over shoulder. He's already barefoot, sandals left at the door. Kurt really, really likes this sight.

"Did you eat dinner yet?" Carole asks. "We had lasagna. There's plenty leftover and I can heat some up for you if you'd like."

"I'm not hungry," Blaine says. "Thank you, though."

Carole nods. "Let me know if you change your mind. I'm going to go put these in a vase. Kurt will show you where you can put your stuff."

"Come on," Kurt says, taking Blaine's hand to lead him up to the guest bedroom. Like always, Blaine's hand is warm and soft. Perfect. "You can put your stuff anywhere," Kurt says.

"Thanks," Blaine says, dropping his bag on the ground.

"So, what do you want to do? Go shopping? Get some coffee? Play a round of mini-golf?" Kurt winces. "Okay, that last suggestion was corny. I mean, unless you want to play mini-golf. Then that's fine. But I just meant…"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupts, chuckling slightly. "Do you think we could just hang out here and watch TV or something? I kind of have a headache."

Kurt slows down and smiles. Watching TV on the couch with Blaine sounds like a perfect evening. He leans in and plants a kiss on his boyfriend's lips. "Sure. Great idea."

They head downstairs to the living room and settle in on the couch. Luckily for them, _Titanic_ is showing and they've only missed the first 20 minutes. "Such a classic," they both agree.

"Is your headache bad? Do you want some Tylenol?" Kurt asks.

"No, I'll be fine. I was just up too late last night. It'll go away." Blaine smiles and Kurt sits back to relax.

Rose and Jack are just starting to fall in love when Finn and Burt come home from whatever sporting event they'd gone to watch that evening.

"Hey," Finn says.

"Hey. How was the…hockey game?" Kurt asks, taking a stab at it.

"Baseball," Finn corrects. "It was awesome. A no-hitter."

"Cool," Kurt says even though he has absolutely no clue what a no-hitter is.

"What are you watching?" Burt asks. "_Titanic_? Oh, no wonder Blaine's asleep."

Kurt looks to Blaine and finds that he is indeed asleep, curled against the arm of the couch, lips parted slightly, breathing deeply. "He had a headache. That's the only reason he fell asleep."

"Sure. Hey, I'm starving," Finn says. "Is there any of that lasagna left over? You want any, Kurt?"

"No, thank you." Finn and Burt head into the kitchen, and Kurt turns his attention back to the movie, enjoying the fact that Blaine is sound asleep next to him.

Several hours later (because _Titanic_ with commercials is even longer than the DVD version) the movie ends. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Kurt says, gently shaking Blaine's shoulder.

"Hm," Blaine grunts, shifting slightly but not opening his eyes. It's honestly completely adorable.

"Blaine? Do you want to go to bed?"

Blaine mumbles something that Kurt thinks is supposed to resemble, "Sleeping." Maybe.

Kurt sighs. It's obvious that Blaine isn't going anywhere anytime soon. He goes upstairs to the guest bedroom to gather supplies, then returns to the living room.

"Blaine," he says softly. "Here. Pillow." Kurt helps him sit up just enough so that he can place the pillow between Blaine's head and the arm of the couch. He lifts Blaine's feet (heavier than they look) and helps him stretch out on the couch. Finally, he covers Blaine with a blanket, and he'd be lying a little bit if he said he didn't tuck him in. Blaine's already sound asleep again, so Kurt presses a light kiss to his forehead, just beneath those dark curls. "Goodnight, Blaine," he whispers.

Then he heads upstairs to start his moisturizing routine.

* * *

><p>Blaine wakes when he hears voices in the kitchen. He looks around and it takes him a minute to remember that he's in the Hummel's living room. He stretches and winces at the pain in his neck. Must have slept funny. As he sits up, he realizes that he still has a headache, too. Not the best start to the morning, but at least he's not at home alone, going crazy because of all the quiet in his parents' absence.<p>

He gets up slowly, tugging at his rumpled and wrinkled shirt and shorts. He runs a hand through his hair before walking into the kitchen. Burt and Carole are sitting at the table, drinking coffee. Kurt's leaning against the counter with his own mug, wearing what looks to be designer pajamas. "Morning," Blaine says, his voice thick and slightly raspy.

"Good morning, Blaine," Burt says.

"Morning, Mr. Sleeps-Like-the-Dead," Kurt adds. "I tried to wake you and send you to bed after the movie ended, but you were out cold."

"Sorry about that," Blaine says, rubbing his neck. It really hurts. "I must have been tired."

"Did you sleep okay?" Carole asks. "Is your neck sore from the couch?"

"A little bit," Blaine says, shifting his head from side to side. "It'll go away."

"Coffee?" Burt asks, motioning to the pot.

"No, thank you. Actually, would it be okay if I take a shower?" A little warm water might help his neck and his head, maybe wake him up a little bit.

"Sure. Right this way."

Kurt gets him set up in the guest bathroom with towels and a washcloth. The heat and water help a little, but not much. After getting dressed, he just tousles his curls, not having the energy or desire to gel them into submission.

While he waits for Kurt to finish getting ready, Finn tells him all about the baseball game he went to the night before. Blaine gets the feeling he and Kurt don't talk sports very often.

"Hey," Kurt says as he joins them, fashionably dressed, hair perfect, smelling clean.

"Finally, dude," Finn says. "Did you save me any hot water?"

"Maybe a little," Kurt says with a shrug.

Finn mumbles something about needing to wake up earlier as he walks away.

"So," Kurt says, turning to Blaine, smile on his face, "what do you want to do today? Hit the mall? Or maybe Whole Foods? We could pick up something to make dinner for everyone tonight. Or there's supposed to be this art exhibit at the university. I don't know anything about it, but it could be fun."

All Blaine really wants to do is watch a movie, take a nap, get rid of this headache, but he can see how excited Kurt is. He's obviously been making plans and wants this to be a fun week, and Blaine doesn't want to ruin that. He forces a smile. "Mall first, Whole Foods later?"

Kurt claps his hands. "Perfect. I'll get the keys."

* * *

><p>Shopping with Kurt is fun, probably because he has the most unique sense of style out of anyone Blaine's ever met. Or at least it should be fun, except for the pounding headache that just won't let up and the sore neck that's making him wish he would have slept in the guest bedroom last night.<p>

"Am I right? Blaine?" Kurt asks.

"Huh?" Blaine asks, forcing his attention back to Kurt, who is currently holding a pair of boots that will probably be in all the fashion magazines next week.

Kurt sets the boots down. "You don't want to be here."

Blaine feels a stab of guilt. He's ruining Kurt's plans, but his head won't stop pounding. "No, Kurt, I do want to be here. I want to do whatever you want to do. The boots are great. It's just…" he trails off.

Kurt folds his arms over his chest. "Just what, Blaine?"

"It's this headache," Blaine admits, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's getting worse and making me kind of spacey. Sorry."

"Why didn't you say so?" Kurt asks, putting a hand on Blaine's arm. "Come on. We'll go home, get you some Tylenol, and relax on the couch until you feel better." He smiles. "We've got all week to shop."

Relieved, Blaine manages a smile and follows Kurt out of the store.

* * *

><p>Kurt and Blaine spend all afternoon on the couch. As much as Kurt wishes they were out having the perfect day as part of the perfect week, he can almost see the headache in Blaine's eyes. The Tylenol he took a few hours ago must not have helped.<p>

"How's your head?" Kurt asks.

Blaine shrugs sluggishly. "Still hurts. Hopefully it will go away soon." He reaches up and rubs his neck, which he's been doing pretty often.

Kurt grabs the pillow that Blaine used last night and puts it in his lap. "Come here," he says, patting the pillow.

Blaine glances towards the kitchen, where Burt and Carole are making dinner.

"Don't worry about them," Kurt says. "They won't care. You're in pain. Come on."

Hesitating for just a second longer, Blaine lays down on the couch, head on the pillow. Kurt rubs Blaine's neck, trying to work out whatever knots are there. He tousles Blaine's soft curls. But when his hand brushes up against Blaine's forehead, he stops. "Blaine?" he asks softly, smoothing his hand over his boyfriend's forehead.

"Hm?" Blaine asks, closing his eyes and leaning into Kurt's touch.

"You're warm. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Just the headache."

Kurt nods even though Blaine can't see it. Maybe the extra warmth is just his imagination. Regardless, it's probably best to spend the rest of the day on the couch. Kurt settles back and continues rubbing Blaine's neck.

It's not the worst place in the world to be.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Blaine decides they need a new word to describe how awful he feels. His head is still aching, his neck is still sore, and he's freezing cold even though he's tucked tightly under all the blankets on the Hummel's guest bed. He rolls onto his side in an effort to get comfortable, but only succeeds in making himself feel nauseous on top of everything else.

Yep.

Blaine has the flu.

He knows he needs to get up. To try shopping or cooking with Kurt. To make this the awesome week that Kurt intended it to be.

But just thinking about doing any of that is so exhausting that he falls back to sleep.

* * *

><p>It's past noon. As Kurt sits, drumming his fingers against the kitchen table, he does the math. Blaine napped for about 2 hours yesterday afternoon. He fell asleep on the couch around 8 and Kurt practically had to carry him to the guest bedroom around midnight, where he's been ever since. That's like 18 hours of sleep.<p>

Way too much sleep. Plus the headaches. The possibility of a fever.

It's not Kurt's imagination. Something's wrong.

Kurt heads to the guest bedroom and knocks. "Blaine?"

No answer.

He knocks a little louder. "Blaine? I'm coming in, okay?"

For some reason, Kurt is nervous as he opens the door. He's not sure what he'll find. Dead Blaine. Missing Blaine. Naked Blaine.

But as he pokes his head in the door, Kurt finds that none of these are the case. There's a human-sized lump in the middle of the guest bed, one arm flung out enough that Kurt can see evidence of a shirt. The lump is moving slightly, ruling out the "dead" possibility. Thank goodness.

But wait, why had he thought that naked Blaine was a bad possibility? Kurt shakes his head and approaches the bed.

"Blaine? I just wanted to make sure you're…" Kurt stops talking as his heart melts into a big puddle of sympathy. Blaine's eyes are glassy and red-rimmed. Dark, puffy circles underline them as if he hasn't slept at all. His cheeks are flushed cherry red.

"Kurt?" Blaine asks, sounding exactly as miserable as he looks.

"Yeah. Not feeling well?" Kurt smoothes his hand over Blaine's forehead and finds that he's definitely running a fever.

"Maybe the flu," Blaine mumbles, closing his eyes.

"I'd say so. I'll be right back, okay?" Before Blaine can response, Kurt heads out to the linen closet. He grabs everything he'll need, makes a stop in the bathroom for some water, and heads back to the guest bedroom. Burt and Carole are both at work for a few more hours, but that's okay. He's taken care of his dad plenty of times. Taking care of his boyfriend will be no big deal.

Blaine's eyes are open, so Kurt smiles reassuringly as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Open up," Kurt says, turning on the thermometer. Blaine obeys and Kurt puts the thermometer under his tongue. Meanwhile, he takes a wet washcloth, folds it, and places it just above Blaine's bushy eyebrows that he loves so much. "101.9," he reads when the thermometer beeps. "You're definitely sick. Does your throat hurt?"

"No," Blaine says. "Just my head. And I feel a little nauseous."

Kurt makes a mental note to grab a garbage can or a bucket. There's a lot he'll do for Blaine, but scrubbing vomit out of carpet is not on that list. "Do you think you can take some Tylenol? Drink some water?"

Blaine nods, so Kurt takes two pills out of the bottle and helps him sit up so that he can swallow them with a few sips of water. Kurt is used to seeing confident, energetic Blaine. This Blaine, who can hardly even sit up on his own, is kind of endearing.

"What's going on?" Finn asks from the doorway.

"Blaine's sick," Kurt explains. "Probably the flu."

Finn wrinkles his nose. "Want me to call my mom?"

"No," Blaine says immediately. "I'm fine."

He's not fine, but Kurt nods anyways. "I think I have it under control. Thanks, Finn."

"Yell if you need anything. Feel better."

"Thanks," Blaine says, closing his eyes.

Kurt flips the washcloth over. The side that was touching Blaine's skin is already hot. "You'll feel better once the Tylenol starts working," Kurt promises. "Just sleep."

Blaine's quiet for a few minutes and Kurt thinks he's asleep, but then he speaks softly without even opening his eyes. "Kurt?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you…for taking care of me."

Kurt places one finger against Blaine's chapped lips. "No need to thank me. Sleep."

But Blaine doesn't listen. "Kurt?" he asks again.

"Yes, Blaine?"

"I'm sorry."

Kurt's eyebrows knit together. "For what?"

But Blaine's already asleep.

* * *

><p>As Carole walks into the house, she's surprised to see Kurt lounging on the couch, watching TV. Alone. She expected him to be out somewhere with Blaine, or at the very least making a disaster area of the kitchen as they cooked one concoction or another. "Hey Kurt," she says.<p>

"Hi Carole. How was work?"

"Fine." Carole sets her purse down and walks into the living room. "Where's Blaine?"

Kurt nods towards the stairs. "In bed. Sick."

Poor thing. It's awful to be sick and away from home, but at least he's not at home alone. "What's wrong with him?"

"Headache. Fever. Exhausted. Feels sick to his stomach."

"You should have called me or your father. We could have come home to take care of him."

Kurt shrugs. "He's just sleeping. I gave him Tylenol around noon. That seemed to help a little."

Carole glances at the clock. "It's time for another dose. Let's go see how he's doing." Kurt turns off the TV and Carole follows him upstairs. "Is Finn home?"

"Yeah. Said he was going to be in his room for a while. Something about a video game. Sounded important," Kurt says with a smile and an eye roll as he knocks on the guest bedroom door.

Carole laughs. "Okay." They walk over to the bed, where Blaine is huddled under several blankets. Blaine is awake, and Carole's heart nearly breaks at how sick he looks. "Hi Blaine," she says. "How are you doing?"

"Okay," the obviously ill teen responds.

Carole puts the back of her hand to his forehead and cheeks.

"That's a downgrade from 'fine' to 'okay,'" Kurt informs her while she turns the thermometer on and puts it under Blaine's tongue.

"Probably because the Tylenol's wearing off," she says. "When did you last check his temperature?"

"About two hours ago. It was 100.3."

There's no doubt in Carole's mind that this reading is going to be higher than that. Sure enough, the thermometer beeps and she reads, "102.5."

"That's even higher than it was before I gave him the Tylenol," Kurt says.

"It's okay," Carole assures them as she opens the bottle of Tylenol. "This will help. Can you sit up so you can take these?"

Blaine shivers as Kurt pulls the blankets back a little. He moves very slowly. He hardly moves his head or neck at all. Aches with the flu are bad enough, but combined with the night he spent on the couch, he's gotta be in a lot of discomfort. Carole gives him the pills and encourages him to take a few more sips of the water.

"Has he eaten anything today?" she asks Kurt while Blaine sips.

"No. I offered, but he doesn't seem to have much of an appetite."

Carole nods and sets the glass back on the nightstand. "Blaine, you should try to eat something. Would you like me to make you some soup?"

"I'm really not hungry," Blaine says, sounding weak and miserable.

"Come on, Blaine," Kurt says gently. "Just try a few bites? For me?"

With that simple plea, it doesn't take long for Blaine to crack. "Okay. I'll try."

Carole smiles. "Is chicken noodle soup okay? It's from a can, so not quite gourmet…"

"That's fine," Blaine says, visibly wincing as he adjusts his head and neck against the pillows.

"I'll go heat some up." She hesitates before leaving the room. "Do you think we should call your parents? Let them know you're not feeling well?"

"No," Blaine says immediately, wincing again. "I don't want to bother them. I'll be okay."

"Let me know if you change your mind. I have the number to their hotel."

"Okay. Thanks, Carole."

She puts one hand on his warm cheek again. "You're welcome, Blaine. I'll be back."

Carole checks on Finn, then heads downstairs. She can't help but think how wonderful it is that Kurt found Blaine. They're both such good kids. She gets a can of soup (at least it's not the condensed kind) and some saltine crackers from the pantry. She puts a pan on the stove and starts heating up the soup when she hears movement from upstairs.

A few minutes later, she hears Kurt helping Blaine down the stairs. As she's pouring the soup into a bowl, Kurt comes into the kitchen. "He was uncomfortable from being in that bed all day and all night," Kurt explains. "I put on a movie. Maybe it will distract him from how he feels."

Carole gets a lap tray from one of the cupboards and peeks into the living room. Kurt has set Blaine up on the couch with about 8 pillows and a massive amount of blankets. She smiles. "Sounds good."

"Can I help with anything?"

"Almost finished," she says, putting a few crackers on a plate. "This isn't exactly how you wanted to spend your week with Blaine, is it?"

Kurt shakes his head. "No. Not at all. But that's okay. I just want him to feel better."

"Me too." She adds a bottle of water, a spoon, and a napkin to the tray and calls it good. "There."

"Thank you, Carole," Kurt says as they walk together into the living room.

Carole starts to say something about how that's just what moms do, but stops herself just in time. Kurt doesn't need that reminder. "No problem," she says instead. She places the tray on Blaine's lap. "Can I get you anything else?"

Blaine echoes his thanks as well and says he's all set.

"I'm going to go start on dinner for the rest of us," Carole says. "Let me know if you boys need anything." She gently pats Blaine's leg and squeezes Kurt's shoulder before heading out of the room.

* * *

><p>Agreeing to the soup was a bad idea.<p>

Blaine has only eaten a little broth and nibbled on a few crackers, but nausea is rolling over him in waves. He tries to focus on the movie, on the way Kurt's head is resting against his shoulder, on anything other than his stomach, but it's not working.

"You okay?" Kurt asks, looking up as if he can read Blaine's mind.

"Fine," he responds automatically, even as he swallows back a gag. He takes a sip of water, hoping that will settle his stomach. It only seems to make it worse. After another minute or two, he decides that it's not if he's going to puke. It's when. "Kurt?" he says weakly.

Kurt sits up immediately. "What's wrong, Blaine?"

"I don't feel so good. I think I'm going…" But that's as far as he gets. Kurt grabs the tray from his lap. Blaine throws off the blankets (which seem to weigh about a thousand pounds) and dashes to the bathroom (which suddenly is about a mile away) and barely makes it to his knees in front of the toilet before he loses the soup, water, Tylenol, and most of his internal organs.

The retching stops almost as quickly as it started and Blaine is left gasping for breath, exhausted, and in a terrible amount of pain through his head and neck.

"Finished?" Carole asks, and Blaine realizes that she's next to him, rubbing his back.

He starts to nod before realizing that he can't. "Yeah," he says instead.

Carole gently helps him sit up and flushes the toilet. "I'm sorry," he says, feeling embarrassed.

She rubs his back. "Nothing to be sorry about. Do you think you can stand? Rinse out your mouth?"

Blaine lets Carole help him to his feet. She fills a cup with water, which he gladly uses. He avoids looking in the mirror and avoids looking at Kurt, who is standing at the door, probably terribly disappointed in him.

"Kurt, honey, will you go put those pillows back on the bed? I think Blaine should probably lie down for a little while."

Kurt disappears and Carole slowly leads Blaine out of the bathroom and up the stairs, never letting go of him for a second. He must look awful. As he crawls into bed, he wonders how it's possible that he's still exhausted, but he is. He feels terrible. Actually, he's starting to wonder if this is something worse than just the flu.

"Do you need anything?" Carole asks as she tucks him in.

"Just sleep," Blaine says. She puts a cool hand against his forehead and he almost whimpers because it feels so good against his hot skin and the ache in his head. Right on cue, Kurt appears with a cold washcloth, which he folds neatly before placing it across Blaine's forehead. "That feels good," he says, looking at Kurt and catching the hint of a smile.

"Good. I'll make sure it stays cold."

Blaine lets his eyes fall shut.

"Feel better," Kurt says.

But Blaine falls asleep before he can respond.


	3. Chapter 3

"Blaine."

Blaine fights off layers of sleep and the headache that's threatening to split his skull in two. He groans.

"Come on, kiddo. Wake up. Gotta check your temperature. Try to get some more Tylenol into you."

Blaine opens his eyes, but slams them shut again when he finds that the nightstand lamp is on. It feels like a thousand needles are piercing through his eyes and into his brain. He lets out an involuntary whimper.

"What's wrong, Blaine?"

"Too bright," he manages, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, as if that will help somehow. He hears the click of a lamp being turned off.

"Try it now."

Cautiously, with his hands still close to his face just in case, Blaine opens his eyes. The room is dark except for a soft light filtering in from the hallway. Burt is standing near the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

"Yeah? What do you say we see how that fever is doing?"

Blaine takes the thermometer from Burt and puts it under his tongue. He's almost asleep again when it beeps.

"102.9," Burt says with a low whistle. "Definitely time for Tylenol."

On some level, Blaine knows that means he needs to sit up, but he's not sure if he has the energy for that. Before he can contemplate that for too long, strong hands are at his shoulders, lifting him into an inclined position and shoving a few pillows behind his back. The movement causes Blaine to blink back tears.

"I got you some ginger ale. Might help settle your stomach." Burt holds out two pills and a glass.

Blaine swallows the pills with some of the soda. It's so cold and sweet that he wants to down the rest of it. "Thank you," he says.

"You're welcome. Slow sips, kiddo. We need that Tylenol to stay down."

"Okay," Blaine says. "Time is it?" He takes another sip.

"A little after midnight. Everyone's asleep."

Blaine sips again. Even though he's only been awake for a few minutes, he's getting tired. His eyelids are growing as heavy as the glass in his hand.

"You fallin' asleep on me, Blaine?"

"No," Blaine says, even though it's a lie.

Burt chuckles and takes the glass from his hand. "It's on the nightstand if you want more." Burt removes the pillows from behind Blaine's back and gently helps him into a horizontal position.

Blaine's stomach is starting to churn. Nausea is rising in his throat. Apparently the Ginger Ale was a bad idea, too.

"Can I get you anything else, Blaine?"

Blaine rolls onto his side and pulls his knees up to his chest, fighting off another whimper.

"Blaine? What's wrong?"

But Blaine can't answer because if he opens his mouth, words aren't the only things that are going to come out.

His writhing and fast breathing must be a clue because Burt says, "There's a trash can right here if you need it."

Almost before Burt can finish the sentence, Blaine is leaning over the side of the bed, throwing up into said trash can. He would collapse from the pain and exhaustion if it wasn't for Burt, keeping one strong hand against his chest and shoulders, the other holding firm on his back. Thankfully, it doesn't take long for Blaine to empty his stomach.

"Finished?"

"Yeah," Blaine pants.

Burt helps roll Blaine away from the edge of the bed. "It's okay, kiddo. We'll try again later. You gotta start feeling better soon."

Blaine sure hopes so.

* * *

><p>Kurt wakes to the sound of voices. A peek at the clock shows that it's not even 6:00. He doesn't know how his dad and Carole get up that early for work. Then he remembers that he doesn't usually hear Burt and Carole in the mornings. The guest bedroom is between his room and theirs. The voices are too close.<p>

Blaine.

Kurt jumps out of bed and rushes into the hallway. The guest bedroom is dark, but there's enough light coming in from the hallway that Kurt can see what's going on. Blaine is curled into the fetal position, moaning softly. Carole is sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, pressing a washcloth to his forehead, cheeks, and the back of his neck. Burt is pacing from one end of the room to the other, cell phone pressed to his ear.

"What's going on?" Kurt asks.

"Oh, sorry, Kurt. Did we wake you?" Carole asks.

"It's fine. What's wrong?"

"Blaine's fever spiked to 104. He can't keep any Tylenol down. We're trying to get a hold of his parents to find out what they want us to do."

Kurt swallows back a lump in his throat. "Is he awake?"

"Kind of," Carole says. "Blaine? Kurt's here, honey."

It takes a minute, but Blaine does open his eyes. They don't even look like his eyes though, laced with so much pain, exhaustion, and fever.

"Hi Blaine. How are you doing?"

The only response Blaine gives is another moan.

"Yes mam, I understand that you can't tell me what room the Andersons are staying in," Burt says into the phone, sounding frustrated. "That's not what I need. What I need you to do is get them on the phone for me, or go…" His voice trails off as he walks out of the room and downstairs, presumably to use some choice words with the woman.

"Stop," Blaine says, his voice sluggish but intelligible.

"Sweetheart, I'm just trying to cool you down a little bit," Carole explains, still pressing the cloth to his skin.

"The smoke. Make the smoke stop," Blaine whimpers.

Kurt's eyebrows knit together. There's definitely not any smoke anywhere in the room. He exchanges a look with Carole. "What smoke, Blaine?" he asks.

Blaine weakly lifts one hand and points to the closet. "On the piano."

"Carole, what's going on?" Kurt asks, his heart starting to pound. There's no piano. There's no smoke. Something's really wrong with Blaine.

"I think he might be a little bit delirious from the fever," she says, sounding concerned herself. "Here," she gets up and hands Kurt the washcloth. "I'm going to go call the doctor's office. Someone should be on-call and able to tell us if we should bring him in first thing this morning or take him to the hospital now."

Kurt nods and takes Carole's place on the edge of the bed. Even without touching Blaine, he can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

"The smoke," Blaine says again.

"It's okay, Blaine," Kurt says, pressing the washcloth to Blaine's head, willing it to do some good.

Blaine's eyes close. From downstairs, Kurt can hear his dad's voice. Though he can't make out the words, he can tell that they're heated.

Blaine fidgets on the bed next to Kurt. He must still be uncomfortable.

But then he doesn't stop moving.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks, watching as Blaine's limbs and torso start to convulse. He's not fidgeting, Kurt realizes. He's never seen a seizure before, but oh my god his boyfriend is having a seizure.

"Dad! Carole!" he screams, jumping off the bed, watching helplessly as Blaine continues to thrash and writhe. "Blaine," he chokes through sudden tears. "Please, Blaine. Please."

But Blaine doesn't answer.


	4. Chapter 4

Carole is so startled by Kurt's scream that she drops the phone. "Kurt?" she calls, running up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.

She flips on the light and sees Blaine thrashing around on the bed, eyes rolled to the back of his head, obviously having a seizure. It takes only a few seconds for her to pull the blankets off the seizing boy and check his pulse and breathing, which seem to be okay. Kurt is standing next to her, tears streaming down his face, hands shaking almost as badly as Blaine's.

"Kurt, honey," Carole says softly, taking her stepson's hands into her own, "it's okay. He's having a seizure from the high fever. Finn used to get them all the time. They're scary, but not dangerous. It won't last long. Blaine will be okay."

Kurt coughs out a sob and nods. "Okay," he says, sounding less than certain.

"Do me a favor. Go wake Finn and tell him we're taking Blaine to the hospital, okay?"

Kurt nods, but doesn't make any movement towards the door.

"Go, Kurt," she says, giving him a gentle nudge. He nods again and wipes at his eyes before leaving the room.

Carole checks on Blaine again.

"What's the yelling for?" Burt asks as he enters the room. Then he adds, "Oh, shit."

"Seizure. It should stop soon."

"Should I call 911?"

"No. I do think it's time to get him to the hospital, but his pulse and breathing are fine. We can drive him as soon as the seizure stops. It will probably be faster."

Burt nods. "Where's Kurt?"

"I sent him to wake Finn. Kurt doesn't need to be watching this. It's scaring him. Did you reach Blaine's parents?"

"They didn't answer their hotel phone. I left a message for them to call me on my cell as soon as they get the message."

At that moment, Finn appears at the door, looking only partially awake with his half-lidded eyes and hair sticking up in a thousand different directions. When he sees Blaine, however, his eyes open wide. "What's happening?"

"Blaine's having a seizure, honey. We're going to take him to the hospital. Do you want to come with us or stay here?"

"I'll come with you," Finn says.

"Okay. Go get dressed. We're leaving as soon as the seizure stops." Carole looks back to Blaine and the clock, knowing that the seizure should stop soon. Hopefully very soon.

Kurt appears at the door, now dressed. His face falls at the sight of Blaine still shaking on the bed.

"Kurt, can you go find Blaine's wallet?" Burt asks. "Get his ID and any insurance cards you can find."

With a nod and a little hesitation, Kurt leaves the room.

"Good call," Carole says, adjusting the pillow when Blaine's head starts to slip. A second later though, he stops thrashing and goes completely still. Carole immediately checks his pulse and breathing. "He's okay," she says when she determines both to be fine.

"Thank goodness." Burt exhales in relief.

"Blaine? Honey, can you hear me?" Carole lightly taps the boy's too-hot cheek. "Open your eyes for me."

Blaine stirs slightly and blinks once before squeezing his eyes shut and moaning.

"Blaine, we're going to take you to the hospital, okay?" Carole says. "You had a seizure, but you're going to be just fine."

"It's over?" Kurt asks from the doorway, a mix of fear and hope in his voice.

Carole nods and smiles at Kurt and Finn, who has also joined them at the doorway. "Yeah. It's over. Let's get him out to the car."

Burt scoops Blaine easily into his arms and carries him downstairs. He places Blaine in the backseat with his head resting in Carole's lap and bare feet resting on Kurt's legs. Finn takes the passenger seat. Carole rubs Blaine's arm, pausing only to pat Kurt's shoulder every once in a while because he looks beyond terrified.

The car ride is silent except for the occasional moan or whimper from Blaine and the occasional sniffle from Kurt. Burt drives too fast and breaks every traffic law possible, but no one in the car complains.

They arrive at the Emergency Room entrance in record time.

"Finn, can you carry him in?" Burt asks. "I'll go park the car."

"Sure," Finn says. "He's burning up," Finn says, alarmed, as he carefully lifts the teen into his arms.

"I know, honey. The doctors will take care of him."

They enter through the sliding glass doors and Carole motions to a row of wheelchairs. Finn places Blaine in the closest wheelchair, making sure his feet are on the footrests, and they hurry over to the desk.

A calm woman in light blue scrubs and a blond ponytail smiles at them. "How can I help you?"

"My son's boyfriend is staying at our house while his parents are out of town. He has a fever around 104 and just had a seizure."

The woman nods and immediately begins typing on her computer. "Do you have his ID and insurance cards?"

When Kurt hands them over, Carole notices that his hand is still shaking. She's glad when Burt reappears and puts one arm around his son's shoulders.

"I'm just making him a hospital bracelet," the woman explains as she types. "Then we'll bring him in right away."

"Thank you," Carole says, relieved that they won't have to spend hours in the waiting room.

The woman finishes typing, makes a copy of Blaine's cards, and gives them back to Carole before fastening a printed hospital bracelet to Blaine's wrist. She opens the door labeled "Triage" and says, "You can bring him back. I'm sorry, though. No visitors under the age of 18 are allowed in the Emergency Room."

Carole's heart breaks for Kurt.

"It's okay," Finn says, putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "You guys go ahead. Kurt and I will stay here. Just keep us posted."

Carole mouths a thank you to Finn, hugs Kurt, and follows her husband, Blaine, and the nurse through the door.

* * *

><p>Blaine is dying.<p>

This must be what dying feels like. He's vaguely aware of someone shoving something in his ear and squeezing his arm, but he keeps going back to dying. The pain and dying.

He hears voices, but doesn't pay attention to what he's hearing. Someone lifts him, and he feels dizzy. His shirt is pulled over his head, and he cries out when it hurts his neck. He's too distracted by the pain to care when his pants are pulled down next. Someone helps him lay back against something soft, and all he wants is to sleep. To die or to pass out or to just not be aware anymore, but the pain won't let that happen.

"Blaine?" a voice asks, making him wince. "Can you hear me? Open your eyes, Blaine."

Even with his eyes closed, he can tell that the room is close-to-the-sun bright, so he doesn't make an effort.

"Blaine? Does your head hurt?"

"Blaine? Does your neck hurt?"

Instead of waiting any longer for an answer, the person tips Blaine's head an inch or two towards his chest, and he lets out a mangled scream that sounds far away, like it's not even his own voice.

The voice keeps talking but Blaine stops listening.

Something cold is placed under his arms and near his groin.

At one point, there's a poke in his arm.

Later, someone flattens his bed and rolls him onto his side, eliciting a whimper that he can't contain. His knees are pushed up close to his chest. Another poke in his lower back leaves him feeling strangely numb, but soon the numbness is replaced with a sharp pain deep inside his back that rivals the pain in his head and seems to stretch all the way down to his toes. He tries to move, but strong hands hold him in place. He moans until the pain stops and he's rolled onto his back again.

The voices hover, but Blaine doesn't hear them. He wonders why he can't just die already.

There's another poke below his shoulder, followed closely by intense pressure that burns.

Not too long after, the pain in his head and neck start to back off. The relief washes over him in waves and it's the best feeling in the world. It makes him tired, and he thinks he might actually be able to sleep…

* * *

><p>"Come on, man," Finn says, breaking into Kurt's trance.<p>

"Huh?" Kurt asks.

"I spy something red. I already said that three times."

"Sorry," Kurt says with a sigh. Blaine has been in the ER for two hours. Finn has been trying to get him to play I Spy for the past 45 minutes without much success. "Don't you think they should know something by now?"

"Kurt…he'll be okay. The doctors will take care of him. He'll be fine."

Kurt nods and swallows back a lump in his throat. Even though Finn has said some version of these words about 50 times already, he can't stop worrying about Blaine.

Finally, Burt appears from the doors that Kurt has been staring at for the past two hours. Kurt and Finn jump to their feet.

"Is he okay? What's wrong with him?" Kurt asks, voice shaking and eyes filling with tears again.

Burt sighs and runs a hand over the top of his head. "He's got bacterial meningitis."

The words mean nothing to Kurt. "What now? They give him medicine? He'll be okay?"

"He's already on antibiotics. They should help. They gave him some strong pain medication, so he should be resting comfortably. They've got his fever down to 103."

These are all good things, but Kurt knows his dad well enough to know that there's something he's not saying. He can read it in Burt's expression, in the way he won't look Kurt in the eye. "What?" Kurt asks coldly. "Whatever it is, Dad, just say it."

Burt sighs again. "Blaine didn't tell us how bad he was feeling. The infection is advanced. There may be some complications. There might not be any, but the doctors wanted us to be prepared, just in case…"

"Spit it out, Dad," Kurt says, clenching his hands into fists, bracing against the unknown.

"He could still take a turn for the worst. Even if he doesn't, he may end up with brain damage. Paralysis. Seizures. Hearing loss."

Kurt can't stop the images that flash through his mind. Blaine lying too pale and too still. Blaine in a wheelchair, unable to play the instruments he loves. Blaine seizing uncontrollably. Blaine without music. Without singing.

"They're taking good care of him, Kurt," Burt says softly. "He might be just fine."

Kurt nods, but he can't stop the tears from streaming down his face.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: This is a lot longer than the 3 chapters I anticipated it being. Hope no one minds. Probably one or two more chapters after this. Thank you for reading and for all of your lovely feedback!

* * *

><p>It's silent and still in the tiny ER room. Blaine is sound asleep, doped up on heavy-duty pain-killers. A nurse comes in every so often to check his temperature and replace the cold packs under his arms and against his groin (and thank goodness the kid isn't awake enough to feel <em>that<em>.)

The nurse assures them that Blaine will be admitted as soon as a room becomes available. Burt has already confirmed that visitors over the age of 14 are allowed at that point, so he's hopeful for Kurt's sake that the move out of the ER happens soon.

Burt glances at the clock on his phone for the thousandth time that morning when it starts vibrating in his hand. The number is unfamiliar and has a strange area code in front of it.

"I bet that's Blaine's parents," he says softly. "I'll be right back."

Carole nods and pats his leg as he walks past.

"Hello?" Burt says into the phone once he's out of the room.

A male voice comes across the line. "Mr. Hummel? This is Blaine Anderson's father."

"Yes, hello, Mr. Anderson. Listen…Blaine hasn't been feeling well the past few days at our house. This morning he got so bad that we brought him into the hospital. It turns out he's got bacterial meningitis."

There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Oh. Is he okay?"

Burt tugs at the brim of the baseball cap on his head. "Well…he's doing better than he was. They're giving him antibiotics. They've got his pain under control and his fever's coming down some. They're worried there might be complications, though."

"Complications?" Mr. Anderson echoes.

For just a second Burt closes his eyes and imagines what it would be like to be on the receiving end of this phone call. If it was Kurt and if he was a thousand miles away. The thought makes him feel sick. "Well, hopefully there won't be any complications. Hopefully he'll be fine. But the doctors did mention that there may be some hearing loss. Maybe some seizures or brain damage. Possibly paralysis. But there's no way…"

"I'm sure Blaine will be all right," Mr. Anderson interrupts. "Mr. Hummel, is there…"

"Burt. Burt Hummel."

"Fine. Burt. Is there any way I can speak to the physician in charge of Blaine's care?"

"Yes, absolutely. Blaine's case manager gave me her card and asked to have you call her. She needs to get some information from you and can put you in touch with Blaine's doctors." He pulls the card out of his pocket and reads the number.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. And just so you know, we'll be here with Blaine as long as we need to be. And if you need a ride from the airport or anything, just call. I can't imagine if it was my kid…"

"Oh, we won't be returning until the weekend. I'll speak with his physician, but I'm sure there's no reason for us to be there. No reason for you to be there, either. Blaine will be fine."

Burt almost has to pick his jaw up off the ground. "Oh," he says, because he's not sure what else to say. "Well…if…."

"Thank you for taking my son to the hospital, Mr. Hummel. I appreciate that. I'll be in touch."

But even from a continent away, Burt knows that he won't be.

And it breaks his heart.

* * *

><p>Kurt toys with the water bottle that Finn brought him an hour or two ago. It's past lunch time, but Kurt isn't hungry. Or thirsty. He's just waiting for an update. For Blaine to be admitted so that he can see with his own two eyes that he's still alive.<p>

"The couple was also sighted Friday night on the streets of LA. No official word on whether they're getting back together, but that news can't be far behind." Finn clears his throat before turning the page and diving into the next story.

After the failed "I Spy" games, Finn had begun flipping through a magazine. Kurt expected it to be Sports Illustrated or possibly Highlights (this is Finn, after all), but was surprised when Finn began reading the latest celebrity news and gossip. US Weekly. Out loud.

It's an obvious diversion technique, and Kurt appreciates it probably more than Finn realizes.

Kurt is explaining to Finn the difference between an Oscar and an Emmy when Burt walks out into the waiting room again.

"How is he?" Kurt asks, wringing his hands.

"His fever's down to 101, so that's good. And a room opened up, so he's being admitted. Carole's going upstairs with him right now. We can meet them there in a few minutes."

"Is he awake?" Finn asks.

Burt sits next to Kurt. "Not yet. The medication they gave him is pretty strong. His body just needs some rest right now."

Kurt nods, fighting back tears again.

"What about his parents?" Finn continues. "Have you heard from them?"

Burt pauses a second too long for Kurt's liking. "Yes. I spoke to Blaine's father. Kurt…how much do you know about Blaine's parents?"

Kurt swallows hard. "Not much. I know his dad travels a lot for work and his mom usually goes with him. That's part of the reason why they sent him to Dalton."

"Part of the reason?" Burt asks.

Kurt nods and looks away. "The other part… I think they aren't really accepting. Of Blaine. Of him being gay." Kurt is silent for a second before looking up to see the pained expression on his dad's face. "Dad, Blaine's parents aren't coming, are they?"

The answer is clear on his face before he says a word. "No. They're not. But Kurt, we'll be here as long and as much as Blaine needs us. We'll make sure he's taken care of. Okay?"

This time Kurt can't stop a tear from rolling over onto his cheek. He nods. "Thanks, dad."

Burt pats Kurt's shoulder. "You're welcome, son. Now, are you ready to see him?"

Kurt takes a deep breath before nodding. "Yes. Please."

A few minutes later, Kurt is standing outside room 521, his heart racing. Burt and Finn are off finding the waiting room. Carole stands next to Kurt and squeezes his hand.

"He's just sleeping, Kurt," she says gently. "He's still Blaine. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Nothing except death and paralysis and brain damage and hearing loss, Kurt wants to say. Instead he nods.

"Go on," Carole says. "I'll be right here if you need me."

Kurt swallows hard and nods again. He walks slowly into the room and whether he's ready for it or not, there's Blaine.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks softly as he approaches the bed. There's a part of him that expects Blaine to open his eyes at the sound of Kurt's voice, to wake up and be fine so they can go home and put all of this behind them. "Blaine? Can you hear me?"

But Blaine doesn't move.

It would be easy to pretend that Blaine is fine. That he's just sleeping. But then Kurt would have to ignore the too pale skin. The stubble along Blaine's jaw from too many days without shaving. The hideous gray-blue gown. The IV in the crook of his left arm. The abnormal heat still radiating from Blaine's skin when Kurt takes his hand.

"It's going to be okay," Kurt whispers as a tear slides down his face. "You're going to be fine."

* * *

><p>The first thing Blaine realizes when he wakes up is that his head doesn't hurt. His head, his neck, and the rest of his body are strangely numb and pain-free. It's maybe the best feeling in the world. He stirs slightly and sighs, ready to go back to sleep, until he hears a familiar voice.<p>

"Blaine? Blaine, are you waking up? Can you hear me? Open your eyes."

It's Kurt. It sounds like he's been crying. Blaine struggles to open his eyes. The light still seems far too bright, but not as bad as it did before. At least he can see. He can see the tears in Kurt's eyes.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks. "Blaine, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Blaine says, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

"You can?" Kurt asks. "You can hear me? Do you know who I am?"

Blaine wants to ask where he is. He wants to know what's up with the dumb questions. Why Kurt is crying. But he's far too tired. "Kurt," he answers instead.

"Right," Kurt says, with a laugh and more tears. "You're okay. He's okay," Kurt says over his shoulder, and Blaine sees Burt, nodding and smiling behind his son. There are tears in his eyes, too.

Blaine wants to say something else, but his eyes are so heavy and his head doesn't hurt and he's just so tired…


	6. Chapter 6

When Carole wakes, it's still dark out. She tries to roll over and go back to sleep, but her mind is already in overdrive. Strangely enough, she's thinking about French toast.

The whole Hudson-Hummel clan had been at the hospital until visiting hours ended at 9 pm. Kurt hadn't left Blaine's room at all, not even to sample the cafeteria's lousy excuse for a meal. He hadn't wanted to eat when they got home, either. Too worried and upset.

But if there's one thing that Kurt will always eat, it's Carole's French toast. Sure, he might complain about the calories or fat or sugar, but that never stops him from eating every bite. So that's why Carole is awake at 2:00 in the morning, thinking about French toast and if she has all of the ingredients on hand.

She's also wondering how Blaine is doing. He'd only been awake for a minute or two all day. His temperature didn't drop much below 101, but at least it didn't spike again. He hadn't had any more seizures or complications of any kind. Now, Carole wonders how his night is going. She also wonders what kind of parents can't be with their son when he's so seriously ill.

Carole sighs and slips quietly out of bed, knowing she's not going to fall back asleep anytime soon. Burt shifts in the bed, but doesn't stop snoring. She pulls on her robe and pads out into the hallway.

Instinct takes her into Finn's room. He's sound asleep, gangly limbs strewn about in every direction. Carole gently checks his forehead, pleased when she finds no trace of a fever. The entire family had been given antibiotics as a precaution, but she's still on the lookout for any signs that the meningitis might have spread. She tucks Finn's blanket up under his chin and kisses the top of his head before quietly exiting the room.

Kurt's room is next. He stirs immediately, and even in the darkness Carole can see that he's awake. "What are you doing up?" she asks softly.

"Can't sleep."

It sounds like he's been crying. Carole sits on the edge of the bed and he scoots over to make room for her. She smoothes her hand over his forehead. "Feeling okay?"

He sighs. "Yeah. Fine. Just worried."

She slides her fingers through his hair and is surprised when he doesn't pull away from her touch. "Would you be able to sleep if I called the hospital to find out how he's doing?"

"Maybe."

Carole nods and runs her fingers through his hair one more time. "I'll be right back." She returns with her cell phone and the business card one of the nurses had given her before they left. The lamp on the nightstand casts a soft glow throughout the room. Carole sits next to Kurt and dials the number.

The phone rings twice before it's picked up. "5 West. This is Andrea. How can I help you?"

"Hi Andrea, my name is Carole Hummel, and I'm calling to find out how Blaine Anderson in room 521 is doing."

"Actually, I was just in Blaine's room. Let me grab his chart, okay?"

"Sure," Carole says. "Thank you."

The fear is evident in Kurt's wide eyes. Carole considers putting the call on speaker phone, but if something's wrong, she's going to need Burt there to help cushion the blow. "The nurse is grabbing his chart," she says instead, then prays for good news.

"Carole?" Andrea asks, coming back on the line.

"Yes."

"Blaine is doing well. His fever is down to 99.8. The rest of his vitals are all good. He's been asleep all night and seems to be resting peacefully."

"Good," Carole says, smiling in Kurt's direction. "And he hasn't had any more seizures or other complications?"

"None at all," Andrea assures her.

"Great. We'll be in as soon as visiting hours start tomorrow, but you'll call us if anything changes between now and then?"

"We certainly will, but he seems to be doing fine. Try to get some rest."

"Will do. Thank you for the update."

They say goodbye, and the phone isn't even away from Carole's ear before Kurt's asking, "What did they say? How is he? Is he okay?"

Carole smiles and pats Kurt's leg. "He's doing fine. His fever is down to 99.8. His vitals are good. He's sleeping well."

A visible amount of tension leaves Kurt's shoulders. "Good. That's good."

"Yeah. Now, do you think you'll be able to get some sleep?"

Before Kurt can answer, his stomach gives an audible growl. Kurt blushes and folds both hands over his stomach. "I'm not hungry. I don't know why my stomach is making so much noise."

"Because it's empty and it's hungry even if your brain isn't." Carole stands. "Come on. I'll make you something to eat, and then you can sleep for a few hours before visiting hours start."

"Thanks, Carole, but I'm really not…"

"French toast?" she interrupts.

The hint of a smile plays on Kurt's lips. "Really?"

Carole smiles. "Yep. Let's go, kiddo."

The pair head downstairs into the kitchen. They gather bread, eggs, milk, cinnamon, vanilla, and powdered sugar. While Carole cooks, Kurt sets the table and pours them each a glass of milk. They chat back and forth, oblivious to the fact that there might be anything odd about making breakfast in the middle of the night.

That is, until Burt comes down the stairs. "What in the hell are you two doing?" he asks, rubbing his eyes.

"Neither one of us was sleeping and Kurt was hungry," Carole explains. "French toast?"

She expects him to say no, to grumble something about making too much noise before going back to bed. Instead, he pulls out a chair. "Are you kidding me? That hamburger in the cafeteria was as dry as sawdust. I'm starving. Sign me up."

"I suppose the sugar won't hurt you just this once," Kurt says, grabbing an extra place setting.

Before Burt can respond, there are more footsteps on the stairs. "I smell food," Finn says, voice still thick with sleep, eyes squinting in the bright light.

"I'm making French toast," Carole explains. "I don't suppose you want any?"

"Dibs on the first piece," he responds, plopping himself down next to Burt as Kurt gets out another place setting and Carole takes out even more bread.

Soon the entire family is seated around the kitchen table, diving into the impressive display of French toast. Everyone is laughing and talking, in good spirits due to the slight improvement in Blaine's condition and the presence of non-cafeteria food.

"This is amazing, Carole," Kurt says as he takes his third slice. "Thank you."

She smiles, happy to see him eating. "You're welcome."

"You know," Kurt continues as he pours syrup onto his plate, "I wish Blaine had something like this."

Burt wipes his mouth with a napkin. "You want Blaine to have French toast in the middle of the night? That can probably be arranged once he's feeling better."

Kurt smiles. "Not just that. I mean all of this. Family. Who actually care."

"Kurt," Carole says gently, "at this point I think Blaine has kind of become part of our family."

There are tears in Kurt's eyes when he nods. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Okay," Finn says, mouth full of French toast, "but not really family, like we're getting another brother, right? Because he's dating Kurt, and if he was our brother than that would be…"

Kurt throws the cap from the bottle of syrup at Finn, but he's laughing as he does so.

"Finn, honey, shut up and eat your breakfast, okay?" Carole asks.

It's so good to see Kurt smile.

* * *

><p>When Blaine wakes again, it feels like he's been asleep for a long time. He stretches and opens his eyes. He's in a small, unfamiliar room. A hospital room. Why is he in the hospital? What's wrong with him?<p>

"Blaine?" a tentative voice asks before he can panic too much.

It's Kurt. Kurt is standing next to the hospital bed, and Carole joins him a second later. "What happened?" he tries to ask, but his voice is too hoarse to form the words.

"Here," Kurt says, holding a straw in a Styrofoam cup up to Blaine's lips.

Blaine takes a few sips and clears his throat before trying again. "What happened?"

"Honey, you're going to be just fine, but you were really sick," Carole explains. "You have meningitis."

The word means very little to him, but he can tell from both of their faces that it's bad.

"How are you feeling?" Kurt asks. "How's your head?"

Blaine considers. "It hurts a little. Not too bad. I think I remember it hurting a lot worse before."

"I'll go get one of the nurses. They can probably give you something for the pain."

Before Blaine can argue that it's really not that bad, Carole is gone, and Kurt and Blaine are alone. The memories are starting to come back to him: staying at Kurt's house, the terrible headache, feeling so incredibly sick.

"Are you feeling okay besides your head? You can feel your fingers and your toes?"

"I think so," Blaine says, testing the theory. "Yeah. All good." A tickle in Blaine's throat makes him cough, and Kurt helps him take a few more sips of water. "Thank you."

When Kurt speaks again, his voice is sad. "Blaine, why didn't you tell me how sick you were?"

Blaine sinks into the pillow behind his head. "I didn't know, Kurt. I thought I just had the flu or something."

"But you knew how bad you felt, right? Why didn't you tell me?"

Blaine sighs and looks away from Kurt's pleading gaze. "Because you were so excited about this week. I didn't want to ruin all of your plans." He smiles sheepishly. "I guess it's a little late for that."

Kurt pushes a few strands of hair from Blaine's forehead. "I would gladly have cancelled all of our plans if it would have kept you from getting this sick. Promise me you won't hide anything like this ever again?"

"Promise," Blaine says. And he means it.

Kurt leans over the rail on the hospital bed and plants a kiss on Blaine's lips.

They're interrupted as Carole enters the room and clears her throat. "Okay, you two. Enough of that."

Kurt pulls away. "Sorry," he says, an embarrassed flush forming on his cheeks.

Blaine smiles because it's adorable.

"Hi Blaine," a nurse says, following Carole into the room. "It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Better," he says. "My head just hurts a little."

"We can take care of that for you. Let me get your vitals first, okay?"

Blaine succumbs to a thermometer in his mouth, a pulse oximeter on his finger, and a blood pressure cuff on his arm.

"Everything looks good," the nurse assures them. "Temperature is a perfect 98.6."

"That's great," Kurt says with a smile, squeezing Blaine's hand.

The nurse holds up a syringe. "I'm going to inject this into your IV. It will help with your headache. It might make you a little bit sleepy, but you need the rest anyways."

Blaine nods and watches as she shoots the clear liquid into the IV at the bend of his left elbow.

"Need anything else?" she asks.

"No, thank you."

"You're welcome. Get some more rest. You're doing great, Blaine."

Sure enough, it doesn't take long for the pain in Blaine's head to back off, leaving him feeling relaxed and sleepy.

"You good?" Kurt asks.

"I'm good," he responds with a tired smile. His eyes are almost closed when another thought crosses his mind. "What about my parents?"

Instead of answering, Kurt looks to Carole, who steps up and puts a comforting hand on Blaine's arm. "They couldn't get a flight back, honey. They'll be here this weekend. And until then, we'll be your family, okay?"

That sounds nice. "Okay," he says. Then he falls into a deep, comfortable sleep.

* * *

><p>AN: There will be one more chapter. Thank you for reading!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Sorry for the delay. Here is the last chapter!

* * *

><p>On Thursday, Burt goes back to work. Finn stays home to do whatever it is Finn does during summer vacation. Carole and Kurt spend all day at the hospital again.<p>

Kurt fluffs Blaine's pillows, rubs his back, feeds him soup, and finds the best shows on TV, even if Blaine is only awake enough to watch them for a few minutes here and there. It's easy to see how much Kurt loves his boyfriend.

Carole handles the steady stream of doctors and nurses with their information and their questions. She keeps tabs on what each pill, injection, and IV bag is and what it's supposed to do. She checks Blaine's forehead for fever in between visits from the nurse. She pats his arm and assures him that he's going to be just fine. She is, for all intents and purposes, Blaine's mother.

And Blaine seems kind of okay with that.

On Friday, Blaine's doctors decide that he's well enough to go home. He'll still have a couple weeks of recovery before he's feeling back to normal, but there's no need for him to be stuck in the hospital any longer.

There's a delay while they wait for the Andersons to receive the faxed discharge papers, sign, and return them, so Blaine isn't actually discharged until early evening.

The nurse takes out Blaine's IV, then hands Carole a stack of papers with home care instructions and a multitude of prescriptions. "We usually give these to the parents, but given the circumstances…" she trails off.

Carole nods and accepts the papers. "I'll take care of it. We'll take care of him."

The nurse smiles and pats Blaine's shoulder. "I know he's in good hands. Go ahead and get dressed, sweetie. Transport should be here in a few minutes, okay?"

Blaine nods. His neck still looks stiff and sore, but much better than it was. "Thank you for everything."

The nurse leaves, and Kurt retrieves Blaine's pajama pants and T-shirt. Carole's glad she thought to take them home and wash them. She helps Kurt get Blaine out of the hospital gown and into the clothes. When they're finished, Blaine sits on the edge of the bed with his legs dangling down, looking absolutely exhausted.

"Don't worry," Carole says. "You can go to bed as soon as we get home if you want."

Blaine smiles up at her. "That obvious, huh?"

She tousles his curls and smiles back. "Just a little bit."

Carole pulls the car up, and a hospital employee wheels Blaine out to the curb. They get him situated in the backseat next to Kurt.

"Let's get you home," Carole says, pulling away and happily leaving the hospital behind.

It's quiet in the backseat. Carole glances in the rearview mirror, and even though they've only been on the road for a few minutes, Blaine's eyes are closed and his head is on Kurt's shoulder. She smiles at the sight. "Is he out already?"

"Think so," Kurt says softly. They ride in silence, letting Blaine get the rest he obviously needs. They're almost home before Kurt speaks again. "Hey, Carole?"

"Yeah, hun?"

"Thank you. For being at the hospital. For taking care of Blaine."

"Oh, Kurt, you don't have to thank me."

"I know. But it means a lot to me to know that I have a stepmom who's not only there for my dad, but there for me and the important people in my life, too. So, thank you."

Carole's heart melts. "You're welcome, Kurt."

They pull into the driveway. Burt is home, tinkering with something in the garage. Carole hears Kurt trying to wake Blaine, tempting him with the comfortable bed and soft pillows waiting upstairs. Carole smiles at her husband as he approaches the car.

"How's he doing?"

"Tired, but better. Let's get him up to bed, then I'll go fill his prescriptions."

Burt nods and goes to help Kurt, who is pulling a very sleepy Blaine out of the car.

"Here," Burt says, standing next to Blaine. "Put your arm on my shoulders, kid. I got ya."

They walk slowly into the house, Burt on one side of Blaine, Kurt on the other. When they get inside, Finn dashes to the entryway.

"I thought I heard car doors. Hey, Blaine. Good to see you broke out of that place. How are you feeling?"

"Just tired," Blaine says. It's obvious by his voice just how true that is.

"Need help?" Finn asks.

Burt nods towards the stairs. "You want to follow behind us just in case he falls?"

Finn obeys. It takes them a while, but eventually they get Blaine into bed in the guest bedroom. He's pale and breathing hard.

"You okay?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah. Tired."

Finn had disappeared for a minute, but returns with a bottle of water. "Here," he says, uncapping it and handing it to Blaine.

Carole smiles and pats Finn's cheek. "Thank you, honey."

Blaine takes a few sips and his breathing returns to normal.

"Is that bed more comfortable than the hospital bed?" Burt asks.

"You have no idea," Blaine says with a smile.

"You should get some sleep," Carole says. "I'm going to go fill your prescriptions. Can I get you anything else while I'm out?"

"No, thank you."

"C'mon, Kurt," Burt says. "Let Blaine rest. If you need us, just yell, okay?"

"Actually…can Kurt stay?" Blaine asks. "I just…"

"Sure," Burt interrupts before Blaine can finish. "As long as the door is open and you promise to rest."

"Promise," Blaine echoes.

"Thanks, Dad." Kurt takes a seat on the bed next to Blaine.

Carol e makes sure Blaine is tucked in and notices that his eyes are already falling shut. "Sleep well, Blaine." She smiles at Kurt, then follows Burt and Finn out of the room. She wraps her arm around her husband's waist. "I'm so glad he's okay."

Burt leans over and kisses the top of her head. "Me too."

When she returns from the pharmacy, both Kurt and Blaine are sound asleep on the guest bed, Kurt's arm draped protectively around Blaine's waist.

Carole can't help but smile.

* * *

><p>Kurt wakes in the middle of the night and realizes that his dad and Carole let him stay in the guest bedroom for the night. Sure, the door is wide open and Blaine's far too sick to do even think of doing anything, but it's still nice to be curled up next to him.<p>

He feels Blaine stir. He listens for the deep, heavy breathing of sleep but doesn't hear it. "Blaine?" he whispers.

"Yeah." Blaine rolls onto his back.

"Why are you awake? Are you okay?" Kurt automatically pulls a hand out from under the covers to feel Blaine's forehead. It's cool and dry.

"I'm fine," he responds softly.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Not too bad."

Kurt rolls onto his side and toys with one Blaine's curls. "Then why aren't you asleep?"

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

Blaine sighs. "My parents come back today."

This is a fact that Kurt has been trying to avoid thinking about. "I know."

"I have to go home."

"Unless we kidnap you or something. I mean, you're at Dalton most of the year anyway. Would your parents really notice if you were gone the rest of the year, too?"

"Kurt," Blaine says, and edge of disapproval to his tone.

"Sorry. I just...like having you here."

Blaine laughs. "If you've enjoyed the past week, you have pretty low standards."

Kurt snuggles a little closer. "I like spending time with you no matter what. If that time excludes you being sick and in the hospital, that's just icing on the cake."

"You're sweet," Blaine says, leaning over and gently kissing Kurt's lips. "You know, my parents are going out of town again in a few weeks. Maybe we can have a re-do then?"

"Really?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah. I promise not to get sick again. We can go shopping, cook, go to dinner and a movie."

Kurt smiles because even though he's glad he and his family were there for Blaine, he is still kind of disappointed that their plans fell through, and the idea of trying those plans again is appealing. "Maybe we actually will go mini-golfing. Or ice skating. You can hold my hand so I won't fall."

"I like how you assume that I know how to skate," Blaine says with a laugh.

They continue talking and laughing, planning the perfect, if slightly silly, week. A few minutes later, the light in the hallway goes on and Carole appears in the doorway.

"Hi Carole," Kurt says. He inches away from Blaine, but only a little.

"What are you two doing up?" she asks. She comes into the room and turns on a lamp.

"Just talking," Blaine says.

"Well, I'm glad you're awake because it's time for your medicine. How are you feeling?" She checks his forehead as well.

"My head hurts some. Not too bad."

"One pain pill or two?" Carole asks.

"One."

Carole takes pills out of a few bottles and hands them to Blaine along with some water.

"Thank you," he says.

"You're welcome. Can I get you anything else? Anything to eat or drink?"

Blaine starts to say that he's fine, but Kurt gets an idea and stops him. "Blaine, before you answer that, you should know that Carole makes the world's best French toast, and I happen to know that it tastes best in the middle of the night."

"Really? I do love French toast…"

Carole shakes her head, smiling and rolling her eyes. "I'll go heat up the griddle."

As Carole heads downstairs, Kurt kisses his boyfriend. "Love you."

Blaine smiles. "Love you, too."

* * *

><p>Blaine is curled up on the couch next to Kurt, watching TV. His suitcase is already packed and sitting by the door. Because of his exhaustion and the lingering stiffness in his neck, he's in no shape to drive home. His parents will be here any minute to pick him up.<p>

Sure enough, the doorbell rings right on time. Blaine pulls himself out of Kurt's arms and into a seated position.

"Got it," Burt says, heading to the front door.

"Don't go," Kurt pleads, one more time.

Blaine sighs and kisses Kurt. "As soon as I can drive and actually stay awake, we'll have date night, okay? And until then you can call or text me as much as you want."

Kurt sighs. "It'll have to do."

Burt appears in the living room, followed closely by Blaine's mother. Of course, her hair, make-up, and outfit are all perfect. It's impossible to tell that she's just been on a plane for a ridiculously long time.

"Hi, Mom," Blaine says. "This is my friend, Kurt." He thinks Kurt tenses at the word "friend," but he can't be sure.

"Hello, Mrs. Anderson," Kurt says.

"Hello, Kurt. Blaine. Sweetheart, how are you?"

"I'm fine," Blaine answers.

"He's doing better now," Burt adds, "but he was pretty sick. Gave us all quite a scare."

"Well, I apologize for any inconvenience he caused," his mother says. "With a little rest, I'm sure Blaine will be back on his feet in no time."

"Actually," Carole says as she joins them, carrying all of Blaine's medications and home care instructions, "the doctors said it could be a few weeks before he's feeling back to normal. He's still on several medications and will need to follow up with his doctor sometime next week."

Blaine's mother looks slightly ill at ease when Carole hands her the papers and pill bottles. "Right. Well, Blaine, I'm sure you can sort all of this out. Right?"

Instead of responding, Blaine asks, "Where's Dad?"

"He went straight from the airport to the office with John. Some kind of emergency. You understand," she says with charming smile. "Will it be all right if we pick up Blaine's car tomorrow or Monday?"

"Sure," Burt answers. "Anytime."

"Thank you. Ready to go, sweetheart?"

Blaine nods and stands. He gives Kurt a quick, very non-boyfriend-like hug. "Thank you, Kurt. I'll talk to you later?"

Kurt nods. Blaine tries not to notice how sad he looks. Blaine wants to hug him for real. To kiss him. But he won't. He can't.

Instead, he approaches Carole, who pulls him in for a tight hug before he can think twice about it.

"You take care of yourself, okay?" she says. "Rest and feel better soon. I'll be checking up on you."

"Okay. Thank you for everything. Really."

"You're welcome, Blaine." When she pulls away, Blaine notices tears in her eyes. She puts an arm around Kurt's shoulders.

Next, Blaine turns to Burt. "Mr. Hummel," he says, extending a hand for a handshake. Burt scoffs and hugs him instead. "Thank you," Blaine says into Burt's shoulder.

"You're welcome here anytime, kid. Call us if you need anything, okay?"

Blaine nods and picks up his suitcase. His mother gives a polite but insincere "thank you," and starts walking toward the car. Blaine gives one last smile to Kurt and Carole, then follows her out the door.

He knew leaving Kurt at the end of the week wouldn't be easy, but he had no idea that going home would be this hard.

He puts his suitcase in the backseat and climbs into the passenger seat. He's exhausted, but he's not sure if it's physical exhaustion from walking out to the car or emotional exhaustion from saying goodbye. As his mom pulls away, he waves to Kurt, who is watching from the window.

Blaine clears his throat to fight back tears. "So, Mom, how was your trip?" He knows he doesn't actually sound interested, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"Oh, it was lovely. Your father had to work a lot, but there were a few other wives there, and we spent the time sight-seeing. We got to see…"

As his mom continues talking, Blaine stops listening.

Instead, he counts down the days to his parents' next trip and wonders how he got the best boyfriend and the best second family in the world…

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story!<p> 


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